Teuthology
by Aki and Tenshi
Summary: J/S. Written for this kinkmeme prompt: "Sherlock is a marine biologist. John specialises in octopi. They bond over ink and tentacles. Also suckers."
1. Teuthology

Written for this kinkmeme prompt: "Sherlock is a marine biologist. John specialises in octopi. They bond over ink and tentacles. Also suckers."

There's a severe lack of porn in this fic. It's really quite embarrassingly tame.

Also, there's a good chance I may have made some scientific errors in this.

* * *

><p>The study of cephalopods is a branch of malacology known as<strong> <strong>teuthology.<strong>**

* * *

><p>When John Watson is older, he'll learn the art of seduction - how to be harmless and confident, intelligent and self-deprecating, suave and yet unpretentious all at the same time. He'll be able to boast of having relations with people on three continents.<p>

At fifteen, it seems he'll be lucky to have _relations_ with anyone at all.

"You know," he says. "The blue-ringed octopus is known to be rather _enthusiastic_ during mating season. The male attempts to, er, _copulate_ with other members of its species regardless of sex. It's also one of the most deadly-"

The pretty blonde is gone before he finishes the sentence.

"Oh, _Johnny_," Harry says, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "You're never going to get a girlfriend like that."

Regardless of what his sister thinks of his interests, "Hello, My name is John Watson and I'm a marine biologist," turns out to be the best pick-up line he's ever tried.

John walks out of the interview at the aquarium with his name on the shortlist of candidates and the interviewer's phone number in his pocket.

Around the time he reaches the South Pacific-themed displays, John catches sight of dark curls and mother-of-pearl eyes and decides that that phone number is going in the first trash can he sees.

The tall man is staring intently into a glass case. He looks very pale in the aquarium's dim light, almost ghostly compared to the rainbow of anemone and fluorescent fish behind the glass.

"Crown of thorns starfish," John says, stepping closer and nodding at the spiny animal in question. "Second largest sea star in the world. And that's a southern blue-ringed octopus, one of the deadliest creatures in the ocean."

"Yes," the man says. "Isn't it lovely?" He smiles slightly and reaches a hand out as though to touch the glass. "Histamine, taurine, acetylcholine, and dopamine, among others. But mostly tetrodotoxin."

John realizes suddenly that there may be something wrong with him, as his first response if to find that the hottest thing anyone's ever said to him in his life.

"Hello," he says, sounding a bit more shell-shocked than he had intended. "My name's John Watson. Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?"

They go out for seafood, just because.

Sherlock looks at John over braised swordfish and white wine and tells him about the research he's doing on venomous sea creatures.

"I need a research assistant," he says. John's eyes follow the long lines of his fingers as they curl around the stem of the wineglass. "Someone who's not afraid of handling the specimens."

Their eyes meet.

"Could be dangerous."

John just grins.

He loves when Sherlock visits him at work and John gets to pull him down and kiss him while rays and eels and angelfish float heedlessly along behind them.

"_Hapalochlaena lunulata_," John says as the colorful octopus crawls over Sherlock's gloved hands. The little cephalopod twines a tentacle around one of his slender fingers. "Don't let him crawl up your arm."

"I won't," Sherlock murmurs.

The greater blue-ringed octopus is a new arrival at the aquarium, and John couldn't resist letting Sherlock have a sneak preview.

"I have a research opportunity in Australia," Sherlock says, gently sitting the creature at the bottom of the tank and removing his hands from the water.

"Oh?"

He strips off his gloves slowly. "I bought two plane tickets."

It's turning to summer on the far side of the world. John rubs sun lotion on Sherlock's pale shoulders on the days he can tempt him out of the marine institute and onto the beach.

They lay next to each other near the surreal blue waters and regret nothing.


	2. Medusozoa

**Medusozoa**

H/C Bingo – Prompt: Tentacles

Sequel to Teuthology – Sherlock gets stung by a jellyfish.

o

"Of course," John says. "You survive Australia and the instant we're back home you end up in hospital."

John had been at Harry's place - catching up with all the news he'd missed while out of the country -when he got the frantic call from the aquarium that Sherlock had been rushed off to A&E. Then he had to dash from the hospital back to the flat when their landlady Mrs. Hudson phoned him with the news that Sherlock had showed up in a cab "In a right state, dear. You'd best come home."

Sherlock ignores him with as much dignity as he can muster while clumsily trying to text with bandaged fingers. He's got gauze on both hands and covering his right arm to the elbow.

"I'm pretty sure you're banned from the jellyfish exhibit for life, you know."

"Molly always lets me in."

John sits down on a corner of the bed. "She'd better not. At least not without supervision."

"And by 'supervision' you mean yourself?" Sherlock puts the phone down and goes to lace his fingers together on his chest. He winces and desists, gingerly laying his arms at his sides instead.

"You had an _allergic reaction_ to the jellyfish sting! What if it's a- a _Man o' War_ or something next time?"

"John," Sherlock turns a disapproving gaze on him. "You of all people should know that _physalia physalis_ is not a true jellyfish. Nor, for that matter, is a jellyfish actually a fish-"

"Semantics aside," John says. "I'd really rather you didn't scare me like that again." His hand hovers over Sherlock's.

"It still would've happened if you were there," Sherlock says, looking up from beneath his eyelashes.

"Yeah, but at least I would have _been there."_

"You _were _very helpful during the Shark Incident."

John laughs. "Oh god," he says, flopping down and resting his head on the pillow next to Sherlock's. He gently wraps his fingers around Sherlock's left wrist. "Don't ever remind me about the Shark Incident."

o

Sherlock looks ghastly beneath the bandages, long red weals crisscrossing his white skin.

"Lion's Mane Jellyfish," he says, running a finger up one curling scarlet stripe. "Ow."

"Don't touch it," John says. "_Cyanea capillata_, right?"

"I was stung by one when I was a child," Sherlock obediently puts his hands out for John to rub cream on and rewrap.

"Oh yeah?"

"Visiting an uncle in Northumberland. It washed up on the beach." He sticks one of his legs up in the air. "There's a bit of a scar on my ankle. See?" John can't help but smile at how he looks like some particularly flexible zombie with three of his limbs elevated.

"And no one taught you not to step on strange things in your bare feet?"

"Oh, they taught me," Sherlock gives a rare grin. "I didn't listen."

o

Molly does let Sherlock back into the jellyfish exhibit, and he spends an inordinate amount of time floating through the hallways and staring intensely through the glass.

"Revisiting the scene of the crime?" John asks him. Sherlock eyes the lion's mane jellyfish and flexes his newly unbandaged hands.

"Why don't you study something safer next time?" John says, threading their fingers together. "An Irukandji, perhaps? Box jellyfish?"

Sherlock smiles sideways at him as John runs a thumb along one of the still-healing stings. "Needlefish?" Sherlock offers. "Great White?"

"Shark Incident."

"Perhaps I'll train dolphins for a living," Sherlock swings their hands back and forth as they walk along the corridor, blue light filtering through the tanks and waving in patterns on the floor. "They're very intelligent animals."

"I wouldn't mind seeing you in one of those wetsuit getups," John says.

"Only if you buy me dinner first."

"Italian?"

"Mm. Something exotic."

John laughs. "It's a date then, love."

o

He kisses Sherlock's fingers every night until they're healed.

o


End file.
